Rancor
by inceptanova
Summary: Rancor n.  RAAN kuhr  — bitter hatred. AU for Mockingjay in which Madge is alive and is sent to talk to Peeta. No pairings,just empty spaces and frowns. First fic for this fandom, be gentle.


**Rancor n. (RAAN kuhr) — bitter hatred. **

_You knew him didn't you Madge? _

_Yeah… We had a lot of classes together; I guess we were friends of some sort. _You aren't friends with anybody, you sat next to the agreeable boy because he never shut up, and he never asked for you to add to the conversation. He talked a lot, especially about _her_. You think back to when you would sit next to Gale for what seemed like hours, listening to him talk about everything. Hunting, his home life (although he usually kept it away from that, darting his grey Seam eyes from yours, some days you were too different, too unfamiliar. You posit that's why he always preferred Katniss), the forests you always hid from. You assume talking to Peeta will involve effort on your part. You dislike this, but you decide to agree to their pleas nonetheless.

It could be fun.

Katniss, the spark of the fiery revolution that took your mother and father, rushes over to you.

"Madge, how have you been doing?" She is different from the girl in the propos you see, the strong and resilient Mockingjay. She looks weak and worn out, like your perpetually tired mother, you suppose.

"A lot of change. Nothing I couldn't handle, though."

"Yeah, they've made an effort to make us feel welcome," she says in an almost biting tone. She must not like Thirteen too much. "Are you the one they've chosen to see Peeta?"

"Yes. We've had classes together; we were… friends to some extent. The extent being him talking forever about you and classes while I ate lunch, but friends." You say, letting her know without telling her enough. Just how everyone else has seemed to be treating her. Seems fair enough, having tables turned. _The _real_ Mockingjay's taking her place. Sad to be nowhere near your bread boy? _You relish in her expression, screwed up like she's trying to cry.

This is going to be long overdue.

Peeta seems agitated, strapped into that bed. Fidgeting his hands, fingers twitching unnaturally.

"Hi, Peeta. It's me, Madge. From home."

"Madge? Oh, _Madge_, it's you."

"Yes, Peeta, it's me. How are you, Peeta?"

"Horrible. Where are we? What happened?" Whatever they did to him, it was thorough. _Stay clear of Katniss and the Capitol when you talk to him. Ignore the Quell and the Games if you can. Especially the Quell. _

"We're in District Thirteen, or at least, what's left of it. Yeah, I know. It really hadn't been destroyed." You feign a sense of amazement and lean closer, acting as if it's _so great, I mean,_ _the _real_ District Thirteen!_

"That's what they've been telling me. Madge, why aren't we home? I…" He trails off, waiting for you to complete his sentences for him.

"They blew it away with fire. All gone. Half of Twelve is dead, the rest here."

"My family?" He looks so little and childish, eyes wide with hope.

"Ashes and cinders, ashes and cinders." It's a part of a child's song from back home. You can remember your mother singing to you, before she got sick. "Don't worry," you say with a vitriolic edge to your voice. "We can be orphans _together_." You place a wan hand over his twitching one and smile. The people around you with clipboards and pens scribble loudly, and you hear that drunkard Haymitch say into your earpiece, "_Keep calm, and don't go into it! Focus on memories from_ _home!" _

"It's because of her," anger washes over his face. It looks nice on him. "Because of Katniss!"

"Oh no, Peeta, it wasn't because of her," you say, almost teasingly. You doubt he can sense the layers to your tone, but play with it anyway. "It was because of you!" You shout this in his face, for full effect. The look of honest surprise that overcomes him is almost funny. It quickly shifts back to anger.

"Did she tell you that? She's a liar! She's some mutt the Capitol made to use against us!" He shouts.

"Don't be stupid, I don't have to believe a word she says! I watched the Games, everyone did! They saw what you did, how you told all of Panem we were going to start a rebellion! You ruined everything! Katniss just stared at you in shock, everyone did! They bombed us; they set us ablaze just like you wanted!" You shout right back. The conversation won't go your way if you tell the truth. Haymitch is shouting into the earpiece now, "_What are you doing? Stop it!" _

"I remember just what you said, Peeta," you hiss. "'_We're setting a spark in Twelve, and fire is catching!'" _You decide to use that propo that they keep playing for this bit of humiliation; it'll stick in his mind that way. "'_And when we burn, you burn with us!' _You shouted that into the camera, as if it were true!" Tears well up in your eyes, and you don't know who your talking to anymore, Katniss, Peeta, it's all the same. "My mother is _dead_, Peeta, because of you!" You choke up, and stop.

"She… she tried to kill me…" He tries to continue numbly, but you don't care.

"She tried to stop you. But it was too late. You just could never handle being the baker's boy, huh? You needed to be something else, something better. Don't you remember all those times you said it?" You wait, for him to remember.

_"I hate this," Peeta says, rubbing his cheek, where a red welt created by a wooden spoon festers. "I wish I was from the Seam." You scoff. _

_ "You wish you were Gale, is more like it." Gale who hunts with Katniss and is lofty and above school and classes._

_ "Yeah, yeah I do. I bet he doesn't get beat by his mother." _

_ "I least your mother acknowledges your existence." Peeta should know by now that mothers are sore subjects with you. _

_ "Sorry, Madge, I'm just irritated." _

_ "Whatever." Both of you sit in silence for a while, before you say something. "I don't wish I was Katniss. She has so much to worry about. I want to be… not from District Twelve. I want to be from One, or Two. Somewhere where people don't starve and steal." _

_ "Me too, Madge. I wish I was something more than a baker's boy. I wish I was useful, that I could hunt or heal or _something._" You stop, and look at him._

_ "I…" You are about to say something, but you don't. _

_ You don't. _

Before you know it he's screaming and shouting at you. He's telling you that you're lying, did Katniss tell you this? She's a liar, she's a mutt, she's a mutt, she's a mutt, a mutt, a stinking mutt, mutt, mutt and you're being taken out of the room, you shouting back, it's all your fault, stop kidding yourself you fool, until all you're saying is, stupid baker's boy, couldn't handle a few smacks in the face, couldn't handle anything, nothing, you're nothing, _nothing_, you'll never be _anything_, until it's just, you'll never be Gale, Katniss will never love you no one_ ever_ will, no one! And they're saying be quiet, oh god she's ruined everything, shut up do you want to be sedated, someone get her _out_ of here

You don't care at all. You don't care, you just hate. Hate everything.

In your little bunker, all alone, you curl up in a ball under your blanket, until no one can see you and you let the tears flow and flow and mom I love you please come back I'm sorry I played the piano too loud I'm sorry

So sorry

Then you sleep, never wanting to wake up.

_Madge, come here, I want to teach you a song._

_Okay mommy!_

_Shhhh, just close your eyes and listen, okay hon?_

_Okay mommy._

_In the wood, the children wade, through waters grey, _

_The sky burns red, the clouds rain fire, fire, fire,_

_Down, down on the world, on the wood, and all that's left is,_

_Cinders and ash, cinders and ash, all we have is cinders and ash,_

_The children cry, their mothers gone, all they can do is sing this song,_

_Ashes and cinders, ashes and cinders, all we are, all we'll be, is ashes and cinders,_

_When the sky rains fires again, and we are nothing more, when you sleep,_

_You'll forever be free, but not from being,_

_Cinders and ash, cinders and ash, nothing left,_

_Nothing left, but,_

_Ashes and cinders, ashes and cinders, we'll burn down to ashes and cinders,_

_The children are all grown, but all they do is moan and groan,_

_And cry and wail, their lives gone stale, and if you don't love yourself,_

_You'll be them too, singing of nothing but,_

_Cinders and ash, cinders and ash, cinders, cinders, nothing but, _

_Ashes and cinders, ashes and cinders, ashes, ashes,_

_Nothing left but ashes and cinders, ashes and cinders._

_Ashes and cinders._

I wrote this because I was rereading _Mockingjay_, and I wished Madge was alive. Also, I like the idea of her being really sadistic and horrible to Katniss and Peeta after her parents die. Not everyone can be Delly.


End file.
